


Changing Focus

by Nestra



Category: Second Sight (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-03
Updated: 2008-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestra/pseuds/Nestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's not sure why Boyd comes to visit him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Focus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/gifts).



> Written for shrift's birthday. Beta by grit kitty.

Tanner's supposed to pretend that he's made peace with his situation. The people around him would be happier if he played the noble blind man who's lost his sight but learned valuable lessons about life and love.

It's all bollocks. He's bitter, and he's angry, and he's blind, and there's fuck all he can do about it. He has no patience for anyone who thinks he should feel otherwise. DCI Boyd (formerly DI, but everyone knew it was a short step to promotion for him) is not part of that group.

Maybe it's because Boyd didn't know him before and doesn't expect him to be any different. Tanner spends most days in his apartment now, with someone in every day to do the cleaning and cooking, and a nurse who drops by a few times a week to check his eyes. Tanner doesn't know what she expects -- it's not like he's getting any blinder, and the doctors have told him politely but firmly that he's never going to get better either.

Sam visits once a week, on Saturdays, and if Tanner could still see, maybe he'd have some idea how to talk to the sullen teenager that's replaced his sunny-eyed boy.

He's not sure why Boyd comes to visit him. Boyd's not like Catherine. Stupidly obvious -- of course he's not, he's a bloke, isn't he? But Boyd doesn't pity him. Boyd doesn't miss him, not in any kind of professional capacity. They'd worked well together for a bit, but Boyd's always stood on his own.

Unlike Catherine, Boyd will never make the first move.

"Touch me," Tanner says, and he holds out a shaky hand. "For the love of God, touch me."

He hears an indrawn breath. The crackling of newspaper as Boyd sets it down on the table; the rustling of fabric. Three steps over to the couch where Tanner sits, and the sinking of the cushion as Boyd settles down next to him.

Boyd takes his hand, still stretched out into the nothing before him, and draws it close to his body. Tanner turns toward him, and Boyd uses his other hand to steady Tanner's face before kissing him. No hesitation, just hunger, and Tanner's still detective enough to be gratified that he guessed right.

He traces down the line of Boyd's body, pulls his shirt from his trousers and presses against skin. Boyd gasps, then chuckles when Tanner shoves clothes out of his way until he's got his hand around Boyd's cock.

"Knew you'd be pushy," Boyd mumbles into his neck. He lets Tanner take the lead, and Tanner's grateful for that even as he hates Boyd for knowing so well what he needs. Boyd spills over his fingers with a curse; the heavy sound after that is him thumping back against the far end of the couch.

"Come over here," Boyd says. "Anyone would think you were blind," and Tanner actually laughs as he feels his way up Boyd's body, fingers outstretched and searching.


End file.
